Chapter 7

Seven

WESLEY

U nlike everything else, the kitchen sat bare. There wasn’t a fridge or more than an old-style wood stove, and a handful of old pans, which meant if I wanted warm food, I’d have to collect both the food and the wood. “Reduced to manual labor,” I grumbled as I opened the door, expecting a flood of bright light to pierce my skull and reignite the migraine, but the day was cloudy and cool, the breeze warning of an overnight chill to come.

I’d have to get wood for warmth, too. Outside the cabin I hoped to find a woodpile, but sadly other than the cabin itself and a spread of berry bushes filled with ripe fruit, there wasn’t enough sticks to keep the stove lit long enough to warm the house. “Off to Narnia we go then, eh?” I told the kitten. “Or wonderland, pick your novel world of choice. Not certain either are more terrifying than reality. The human creative mind is a horrifying place to get lost.”

I followed the stream, trying to gain direction, not looking forward to finding my way back. Had the cabin been there the whole time? Probably not. The realm shifting and changing meant it was awakening. Good or bad, yet to be determined.

The kitten rode along, without a peep, barely more than an occasional wiggle in my front pocket, but a lot of warmth and comfort as it made biscuits against my stomach.

The comfort of having another living being close calmed the raging anxiety as the stream snaked around, the same as yesterday. Had the cat led me to the cabin? Maybe it could lead me out of here?

I tugged back the fabric to find it sleeping. “So helpful,” I said.

The sound of something trickled through the trees, movement, voices, and I froze mid step. Was that a person or the shadow wolf again? I dropped to a crouch and waited, listening intently for the sound to come again.

“Hello?” the muffled call came from the distance to the north, opposite the cabin. A person? Had someone else wandered into the realm and gotten stuck?

I waited for the call again. Too irregular to be an animal, but the echo gave me a direction, and I snuck my way through the brush, tempted to change, but also aware that I had clothes and a kitten in my pocket, neither of which I wanted to lose. Friend or foe?

“Anyone?” he called. “Way to go, asshole. Get lost…”

His movement filtered through the trees easily a dozen yards away, and I plastered myself to a tree trunk, careful and waiting, studying him from a distance. He looked normal enough. Young like the Summer King, dressed in jeans and a college hoodie, hair cut short on the sides, slightly longer on the top, dark in color, eyes a rich deep brown. Attractive, but averagely so. He could claim pretty privilege, sure, but he was no Henry Cavill.

I didn’t smell a weapon, or a concentration of magic, but the entire realm coated everything in magic. I knew the kitten in my pocket was a magic thing, but couldn’t smell its magic either.

“Hello?” I called, keeping trees between us just in case the man turned into some sort of beast.

He paused and blinked, staring through the trees. “Hello? Someone there? I’m lost.”

“Strange place to be lost, friend,” I said.

He jolted, gaze searching the trees before landing on me, then turned and slowly walked in my direction. “Are you a ghost?”

“Why would I be a ghost?”

“My buddies and I were out here searching for ghosts. We have a YouTube channel that shows a lot of crazy stuff.”

“That’s far enough,” I told him when he was about twenty feet away.

He put his hands up. “Okay. I’m not armed or anything.”

“No camera either. Strange way to ghost hunt.”

“I’m the host. My buddies and I were investigating. I was using my phone to film, but Jason had the night cam.” He squinted in my direction. “Never seen hair that color before. You sure you’re not a ghost?”

Was my hair off? If I spent too much time in my fawn form it often turned more a spun gold wheat, but I didn’t think it all that unusual. My reflection in the mirror at the cabin hadn’t been strange. Maybe what the reflection showed wasn’t reality? I reached up to pull the length of my hair around, trying to make out the color. Was there a rose gold tint to it? Was the realm doing that?

“No ghosts here, friend. You’ve stumbled into a fae forest,” I said wanting to gauge his reaction.

He blinked, confused. “Fae? Are ghosts fae? Wait, what?” He pulled a cell phone out of his pocket and stared at it a minute before cursing. “No service. You don’t happen to have a phone with service?”

“No phone at all.” Realms monkeyed with technology. Would the modern realms have that option? I hoped so as I’d become partial to streaming services. “Where were you ghost hunting?”

“Gifford Pinchot National Forest.”

“Ghost hunting or bigfoot hunting?” I knew of the forest, most anyone who spent any time in small towns in Washington knew of the forest and the ban on weapons to hunt sasquatch. The little King’s chosen town was four, almost five hours north by car, near the Canadian border, and I didn’t think that was where we were at all.

“Both. I mean we are trying to document ghosts, but a bigfoot would get us views too.” He squinted in my direction and took a few more steps forward. I backed away. “No harm, man. You said this is a fae forest? You mean like fairies? The little flying things?”

I snorted. “Fae are manipulators of magic powerful enough to move oceans or fry you with a thought. The little flying type you mention would sooner lead you to a bog to be eaten by a selkie than anything like storybooks of guidance and peace.”

“Right.” He looked around. “Fae forest… and you’re like a wood nymph or something? I thought those were all supposed to be hot girls? Big boobs, no clothes, that sort of thing? No offense, you’re pretty and all, for a guy.”

“I asked for a guy with a big dick, not one who is a big dick,” I muttered, hoping the realm would hear my complaint. A little louder, I said, “I’m lost here, too. Not a nymph, haven’t seen any. They aren’t all the legends claim they are. Not pretty and they are carnivorous. Probably not the ideal way to die. They would probably bite your dick off first. They are sadistic like that.”

He stared at me as though the words I spoke were in another language, but made a move to protect his balls as his gaze scanned the forest. “Scary. Ah, okay. Any chance you can point me back to a road? I can wave down help? Once I get back to my friends, I can make sure you get home, too.”

“You could go back the way you came.”

“I’ve been wandering a while. Trying to figure out the direction by the sun. But it’s behind the clouds and hard to tell. Also spent some time trying to get my phone to connect. Battery is almost dead. You don’t have a charger and one of those portable power packs, do you?”

“No.” I turned and headed back toward the river, and hopefully the cabin. I should have stayed in bed. The crunch of leaves behind me said he followed. “Don’t follow me.”

“Shouldn’t we stick together? If we’re both lost? Safety in numbers and all that.”

“No,” I said. “Haven’t you heard of the man or the bear question? I’d choose the bear any day. Take your bro-self in the other direction, that’s where you came from. I need to find food and wood as it gets cold at night. I don’t need an idiot who gets himself lost in a fae forest while actively hunting ghosts. Who the fuck hunts ghosts in this day and age? They are everywhere. Why hunt them? The fuckers never shut up.” I stomped away, frustrated, and didn’t hear him following me.